the void beckoned.

i stood softly

quaking

afraid

what is there is to do in the void?

i pondered quietly

the void answered,

nothing.

perfect.

i replied

i need time

i need time

i’m a mannequin, a marionette man, my actions preplanned. 

i go through my motions, i do a little dance. My movements based off the crowd’s applause 

i give a little wave because 

words bubbling on my tongue are not metaphors,

They are a message, a warning of future plights to come.

I should thank this body for that, thank

you. piece of flesh you

distracted woman you

It was mid-October and I was laying outside under the large oak tree reading a novel. The tree’s branches swayed in the wind, arms moving as if they were protecting the leaves and everything surrounding it. As I was flipping the pages, I shifted my weight under the crunch of the dead leaves.